special operations
unit out of lateral thinkers -- he wants new blood, creativity. He says I have a
unique perspective."

"Did you talk to Orville?" Orville was the soft one who'd brought them from
their father's shack to the Island, and he was their mentor and advocate inside
its Byzantine politics. Bill had confided to George that he suspected Orville
was of a different species from the soft ones -- he certainly seemed to know
more about George's kind than a soft one had any business knowing.

Joe tore a hunk from the carcass on the rickety kitchen table and stuffed it
into his mouth. Around it, he mumbled something that might have been yes and
might have been no. It was Joe's favorite stratagem, and it was responsible for
the round belly that bulged out beneath his skinny chest.

Joe tore away more than half of the meat and made for the door. "Woodrow wants
to meet with me again this morning. Don't wait up for me tonight!" He left the
cottage and set off toward the tram-stop.

Bill rolled over on his bedding and said, "I don't like this at all."

George kept quiet. Bill's voice surprised him, but it shouldn't have. Bill was
clever enough to lie still and feign sleep so that he could overhear Joe's
conversations, where George would have just sat up and started talking.

"Orville should know about this, but I can't tell if it would make him angry. If
it made him angry and he punished Joe, it would be our fault for telling him."

"Then we won't tell him," George said.

Bill held up his hand. "But if we don't tell him and he finds out on his own, he
may be angry with us."

"Then we should tell him," George said.

"But Joe and this Woodrow may not get along after all, and if that happens, the
whole thing will end on its own."

"Then we won't tell him," George said.

"But if they do get along, then they may do something that would make Orville
angry," Bill looked expectantly at George.

"Then we should tell him?" George said, uncertainly.

"I don't know," Bill said. "I haven't decided."

George knew that this mean that Bill would have to think on it, and so he left
him. He had to catch the tram to make it to his shift, anyway.

#

The soft one with the six-to-noon shift left as soon as George arrived, without
a word. George was used to soft ones not having anything to say to him, and
preferred it that way. He was better off than Bill -- soft ones always wanted to
talk to Bill, and he hated it, since they